Virtus et Defectus in Aqua
by ancazur
Summary: AU. Following their team's victory at the Iwaboti SC relay, Makoto transfers to an elite swimming school in Australia. But over time, his frequent letters to Haru become less frequent. Haru tries to forget as he spends time with his new best friend, Rin, but the wounds aren't easily healed - especially when they're unexpectedly reunited.
1. Chapter 1

_**Virtus et Defectus in Aqua**_

_[The Water is the Weakness and the Strength]_

Chapter One

_Haruka_

There was a serenity surrounding the early-morning, one seldom felt in the laziness of vacation. The ocean spread out before him, taunting him with its frigidity and its smooth, footprint-free sands. Haru crossed his arms and leaned against the railing with a sigh, his hair still damp and his fingers pruned from the bath. Again, he had soaked for too long. Again, Rin had called to remind him to get out and get to school.

It was typical of Rin to be late. Rin didn't like walking to school alone on the first day; it was tradition now to wait for him. Every year Haru stood at the railing and pined for the water, and every year Rin jogged up to him, smiling, and whacked him between the shoulder blades.

"Haru!" he cried. "Hurry it up. You're always making me late."

Rin prattled on as they walked, Haru half-listening as the ocean beckoned. It seemed like only yesterday they were diving beneath its waves, Haru slinking away as Rin tried to hold him underwater.

A shrill, girlish voice interrupted his reverie, shouting their names between hurried footsteps. Rin sighed. "Thought I could avoid her," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder.

"Big brother!" Gou squeezed her body in the small space between them. "Mom is _so_ mad at you. You were supposed to wait for me!"

"Yeah, whatever."

Gou _hmph_ed and turned to Haru instead. "Haru! Good morning."

He grunted noncommittally.

Haru wasn't surprised that he and Rin were in the same homeroom. Again. Rin cracked jokes with their classmates as Haru took his usual seat in the back, staring out the window, envisioning the blue of the sky as the blue of the water. He envisioned that water, feeling the cold of the ocean prickling his skin—

"Welcome!" A young woman stood before them, trying to settle down the class. "I'm Amakata Miho, your new homeroom teacher." When she took the roll, the class burst into a fit of giggles when both Haru _and_ Rin were mistaken for girls. Again.

"He has a girly name," a girl in the front said, pointing back to Rin, "but he's a boy."

Haru rolled his eyes.

The day dragged, as the first day of school often did. Lunch break was a relief, even if Rin insisted on escaping to the roof. It was too cold that day for the roof, but Rin always packed extra food and Haru had forgotten his in the morning rush. So he wasn't going to protest.

"What's gotten into you today?" Rin asked as they climbed the stairs.

He wasn't often expected to answer. He let Rin do the talking for both of them, even if some days it felt he wouldn't shut up. But now he was silent, waiting for an explanation.

"Don't know," Haru said. Rin narrowed his eyes, but held the roof door open without a word. Haru shoved his hands into his pockets as Rin stepped aside, allowing him to pass through first.

"Hey! There you are!"

It was a voice from years long passed, and Haru's chest constricted as the blond-haired boy attacked him in a hug.

Beside him, Rin laughed. "Nagisa! You're in high school already?"

"Hey!" Nagisa pounced on Rin next, squeezing him around the torso. "I'm only one year behind you! Coming up for lunch? Let's eat together."

The roof wasn't too bad, Haru decided. It was better than the stuffy interior of school. When they settled on the floor Rin passed him a spare set of chopsticks, like he had expected he'd forget his lunch. But Haru refused to eat out of the same bento, spreading out a napkin as a makeshift plate instead.

"What's this?" he asked, poking a piece of meat in the box.

"Pork. Eat it." Haru glared at the meat he scooped into his napkin.

Nagisa eyed the bento, grinning at the way they shared despite Haru's futile attempts otherwise. He unwrapped his own lunch, loudly rustling the wrapper to procure some kind of glazed bread product. Nagisa hadn't changed at all.

"What have you guys been up to? I bet you've have a lot of fun with your swimming." Rin side-eyed Haru, who remained expressionless as he ate his lunch. It didn't go unnoticed. "What's that look? You _haven't_ been swimming?"

He looked so _offended_, like he took their lack of swimming personally. As if _he_ had anything to do with it. Haru was tempted to lie just so Nagisa would stop pouting.

"Sure, we swim sometimes," Rin said, watching Haru dole rice onto his napkin. "Kind of hard without a pool, though. It's been too cold to swim in the ocean."

"Whaaa?" Nagisa's shoulders slumped. "But I was so excited to come here and swim with you guys! There's no team?"

"No." Haru's answer was clipped; end of discussion. He almost felt bad—he doubted this was the warm reunion Nagisa had expected. Rin looked away, chewing his food slowly. But Nagisa suddenly brightened, eagerly leaning toward them. "I have an idea! Let's visit the old swim club. I hear they're tearing it down."

"_What?_" Rin's head jerked up and Nagisa grinned, having finally received a suitable reaction.

"Yeah! We have to go before they destroy everything. Because . . . you know."

"No." Haru chewed on the end of his chopstick.

"Aww, come on, Haru-chan," Nagisa said, tugging on his arm. "It'll be fun! Just like old times!"

Haru scowled. "It'll be nothing like old times."

But when Rin agreed that it might not be so bad to see the old stomping ground, Haru was outnumbered. It was a losing battle, but he continued to deny any interest in the swim club. It meant nothing now; visiting an abandoned building without the entire team was pointless. Haru resented how they acted like there was still a team to reminisce about.

Nonetheless, Haru found himself standing outside the club that night. Rin had mostly humored Nagisa at first, but now he grinned as they stared up at the crumbling building. "Brings back memories, huh?" he said, elbowing Haru in the ribs. "C'mon, Haru-chan."

"Lay off the -chan already," he said, but neither Rin nor Nagisa were listening.

Nagisa pressed his ear to the door. "I hear it's haunted," he whispered.

"No one believes that shit," Rin said. "Let's go in."

Everything feels vast and grand in childhood, and Haru was immediately depressed by the reality of it. The hallways, once teeming with excitable would-be swimmers, were narrow and vacant. Once, they could stand four-across in the hallway, reaching out to touch either side. Now, Haru had to walk behind his companions, whose endless reminiscing echoed over the empty walls.

"Here's the locker room!" Nagisa said, swinging his flashlight beam over the desolate room.

"The lockers are so _small_," Rin said, sticking his head in.

Haru lingered in the hallway, staring down its depths. It felt like one of them should be emerging from that darkness, running toward him and laughing, wearing only the regulation blue swimsuit. He listened to his old teammates swap locker room tales he'd long since forgotten. Haru had only been there to swim. Then they grew up.

"Haru-chan, Rin-chan, are you coming?" Nagisa had trotted down the hallway and was now waiting, bouncing on his toes, and pointing his flashlight at them. Haru raised an arm to his face and squinted.

"Haru," Rin whispered, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "You doing okay?"

He wished Rin would quit it with the shoulder thing. He'd done it since they were kids: either putting an arm around him, or squeezing his shoulder, or casually touching his back as he spoke. At least he'd stopped doing it at school—the other kids had started to look at them funny—but it didn't stop him from doing it front of their families, or in the water, or in old, decrepit swim clubs.

"Yes," he said, pulling away to follow Nagisa, who had already disappeared around the corner.

"This way!" The echo of Nagisa's voice made it sound higher, _younger_, like his former self still wandered those halls. "I'm in the lounge!"

They didn't need direction as they rounded the corner, finding themselves in what was once the bright, welcoming room. Moonlight streamed through the wall of windows, and Nagisa's flashlight beam was focused on the far wall.

"Come look at this! Our picture is still here from when we won the relay."

"Ha!" Rin peered over Nagisa's head. "What a bunch of geeks."

They stepped aside as Haru approached, but Nagisa was too consumed with sharing memories to notice the vacant look on his face. And while Rin laughed along, correcting Nagisa where he mixed up the details, he slung an arm over Haru's shoulders. Haru stared at that former version of himself, incapable of ignoring the one whose approval he sought as the shutter closed.

"Let's go," he said, ducking out of Rin's grasp.

"Haru-chan?" Nagisa pouted.

"Maybe it's time to go home," Rin said, as he peeled the framed photograph from the wall.

"No, wait!" Nagisa rushed in front of them to block the lounge exit. "Don't you want to see if the time capsule is still there?"

Haru stared as Nagisa attempted to fill the doorway with his small frame. A _time capsule_, Rin had explained then, using the English phrase: A vessel buried underground, holding important artifacts. But the only important artifact their childish time capsule held was a memory he didn't want to unearth, a vivid reminder of when everything had changed.

"Fine," he said, to Rin's surprise.

"Haru—?" But Rin was cut off by Nagisa's cheers as he swung down the dark hallway. Haru, despite sensing the concern in Rin's voice, head outside without looking back at him. Rin could only dutifully follow as he squeezed the photograph into his jacket pocket.

The yard was dark. Haru felt a strong grip on his forearm, instinctively aware of Rin matching his stride. But Rin kept quiet, so Haru allowed him to maintain his hold.

But then Nagisa stopped short; Rin and Haru skidded to a stop and just avoided running into him. He huddled them together, linking arms to form a haphazard triangle, their bodies and faces too close without the requisite fourth side. He spoke in a low, urgent whisper. "Someone's there!"

Haru peered over Nagisa's head. He could just make out a figure huddled beneath the tree with an old, unearthed vessel at its side. His stomach lurched. _No_, he thought, gripping onto Rin's arm. _Not now_.

"Haru?"

He was vaguely aware of Rin speaking his name. All he could see was that oversized figure by the former home of their time capsule, and now—now that it had shifted—the glint of metal in the waning moonlight.

Rin inclined his head toward the tree, eyes wide in recognition. "Makoto."

He hadn't spoken above a whisper, but the name rang like church bells in Haru's mind. Makoto must have sensed it—he turned, still hugging his knees, and stared in surprise at the three of them. Nagisa frantically swung the flashlight back and forth to ensure he didn't miss the action, but Rin eventually growled and snatched it from his hand. He steadied the beam on the empty time capsule, the lid tossed off haphazardly; the glint of metal—the trophy, their crowning elementary school achievement—then Makoto himself. Makoto wiped his face on his shirtsleeve before rising, unsteadily, to his feet.

"Hey, guys."

Haru didn't want to look at him—his soft, juvenile features had been swept away, replaced with a weary attempt at a smile. But Haru, too, wasn't the same; his own features had hardened through middle school, through the time they hadn't seen each other. He glanced at Rin. Perhaps they were all the same.

Except for Nagisa.

"Mako-chan!" Nagisa finally rushed at him, wrapping his arms around Makoto's thick torso and pressing his face into his chest. "I've missed you so much!" Makoto's palm engulfed Nagisa's head as he stared down in wonder, mindlessly stroking his hair. "You got so tall! And you're really muscular!" Nagisa squeezed his biceps.

"Nagisa, cut it out." Rin steadied the flashlight on them. He remained close to Haru's side, a human blockade, as if daring Makoto to advance.

"Hey, Rin," Makoto said, crossing his arms as Nagisa stepped away. "Haru."

Haru pouted as he looked away.

"It's been a while," Makoto tried again.

Haru shrunk into himself and, as if conditioned, Rin slunk an arm around his shoulders.

"Let's go," Haru said.

Nagisa stared in utter confusion—back and forth between them, trying to gain some comprehension of the situation—then shrugged apologetically at Makoto as he rushed to catch up. The last thing Haru saw was Makoto clutching the trophy to his chest, reaching a hand out to him, as if he had something to say.

* * *

A/N: I don't claim to know Latin, so if you're better versed in it than I am, _please_ let me know if this title is grammatically incorrect. (I've received four different versions from four different translators. I _could_ not be snobby and use the English instead, but _omnia dicta fortiora si dicta Latina _(everything sounds more impressive when said in Latin.))


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Rin_

"Haru-chan, let's start a swim club!"

Haru picked through his bento, procuring a piece of mackerel to shove into his mouth. Nagisa leaned closer, trying to grab his attention, but Haru only chewed slowly and stared over the building's edge.

It wasn't the first time Nagisa had suggested it, and Haru had simply stopped answering. Rin mindlessly poked the sticky rice in his own box. Reading Haru's expression was difficult under normal circumstances, but became nigh impossible after exploring the old swim club. After Haru had walked home that night Nagisa tried to wrestle information from Rin, but he denied knowing anything. He didn't know much, anyway.

Haru and Makoto had a history long before he transferred to Iwatobi—he had understood right away that nothing would come between them, least of all an overeager transfer student. But they _had_ accepted him, Makoto specifically; he was more welcoming and better with talking to people. Haru was a silent entity beside him, allowing Makoto to make decisions for him. It was inevitable—_fate_, Rin claimed in his youth—that they swam together. Their team was unbeatable. They would race together forever.

But then Makoto left.

"Rin-chaaaan?" Rin snapped back to the present as Nagisa poked him in the arm.

"_What?_"

"Don't _you_ want to start a swim club? It would be great! We could all be together again."

Nagisa had been pestering Haru for days; _Haru_ was the one they had to wear down. Of _course_ Rin wanted to swim; he hadn't swam competitively in years. But to start a club from scratch was a pain in the ass, and the three of them couldn't do it alone.

"Big brother!"

Gou had the worst timing, but now Rin delighted in the interruption. She plunked down and grabbed her brother's arm.

"Is there something you want," Rin asked, "or are you just here to bother me?"

"Aw, Rin-chan," Nagisa said, "leave Gou-chan alone!"

She narrowed her eyes and whipped her head toward him, nearly smacking Rin in the face with her ponytail. "It's _Kou_." Rin had forgotten about this new development of hers, but he didn't care. _He_ didn't go around convincing everyone he had a different, more masculine, name. "I've been so happy to see you guys together again," she was saying.

It was an easy catch, and Nagisa took the bait. "But these guys don't want to swim with me!"

"Nagisa," Rin said, "that's—"

"Why _not_?" Gou interrupted, punching her brother in the arm.

Maybe Haru finally decided that a swim club was a good idea, but it was more likely that he grew weary of the pestering. And Nagisa _continued_ to pester them—the old Iwatobi pool needed an overhaul, which he jumped into full-force. They worked after school every day. Haru half-heartedly pulled weeds and repainted the old, peeling pool, but the simple fact he offered his physical labor at all was proof that he, too, wanted to swim again. With them.

"Ama-chan says you need a fourth member," Gou said, hovering as the boys worked. Rin had talked their homeroom teacher into being faculty advisor, even though Ama-chan wasn't helping in the slightest.

Rin shoved a garbage bag into Gou's hands. "If you're going to hang around, keep yourself busy." He pushed a fistful of weeds into the bag, and Gou nearly toppled forward with the force.

"I _am_ busy," she huffed, following her brother around the pool's perimeter. "I'm trying to help you."

"Yeah, well, unless you know any guys who want to swim, you're not helping." He shoved more weeds into the bag. "And you better not know any guys."

"Brother, please." She rolled her eyes. "Wait, I can join! I'll be your manager."

"No."

Nagisa's head popped up from within the pool, where he was scraping off old paint. "That's a great idea!" he said, throwing up his hands in victory. "With four members, we'll be official!"

Rin's glare threw daggers at Nagisa. "Managers don't swim."

"Come on, Rin-chan," Nagisa whined, bouncing on his toes. They could only see his head bobbing up and down, a mess of blond hair flopping over his forehead. Gou turned pleading eyes to her brother, and he reluctantly yielded. As Gou gave Nagisa a high-five Rin scanned the length of the empty pool, his gaze resting on Haru. He had stopped painting, tilting his head slightly to the conversation, but quickly returned to his work. Rin couldn't be completely certain, but there may have been a ghost of a smile.

"Your first job, then," Rin said, inclining his head to his sister, "is finding us another swimmer." But Gou and Nagisa were already busy plotting. Rin sighed. Having his sister on the team wasn't part of the plan, especially with her newly-developed interest in muscular anatomy.

Besides, partway through weed-pulling, he had received a text message. He didn't read it right away—the last thing he wanted was Gou meddling—but as soon as they were cleaning up for the night he checked his phone nonchalantly, like he wasn't utterly perplexed and anxious over the message's sender:

_Need to talk to you. Please meet me at the SC? –M_

He leaned against the chain-link fence as the others packed up supplies, trying to scheme a way that he wouldn't be followed. Nagisa wasn't a problem, as he lived in the opposite direction, but Gou would insist on walking together . . .

"Haru." He approached the pool's edge as Haru climbed out. "Walk my sister home. I have some stuff to do."

"Huh?" She hurried over, gripping his forearm with both hands. "What _kind_ of stuff?"

"_Stuff_," he said, jerking away. "It's none of your concern."

_Fine,_ he texted back._ Be there in 15._

Haru didn't question it. Gou would inevitably ask later, but he didn't think of that as he packed to leave. He clapped Haru on the shoulder in silent gratitude before making his way to the former home of the Iwatobi Swim Club.

The building's demolition had begun, its exterior walls torn down to reveal its skeletal system. _Why do I always end up here at night?_ Rin thought, stepping over the caution tape. Makoto would be too scared to go inside the building; it didn't take a genius to figure out he'd be in the same location Rin had last seen him, as if he hadn't moved at all. He stepped through crumbling concrete and overgrown weeds to a patch of dirt that had hardly changed in five years, save for the small crater that once housed the time capsule. Sitting beside it was the man who had called him to the decrepit yard, his white suit-like uniform standing out against the darkness like a paradox.

"I'm surprised," Rin said, standing over Makoto. "I thought you'd pick a place a little less eerie. Maybe with some lighting."

"This is the only place that felt right." When Makoto looked up Rin was again jarred by that empty look, the once-bright eyes and forced smile. "Please, sit with me."

Makoto was getting visibly nervous the longer Rin stood there, and he couldn't stand watching him sink further into himself. Reluctantly, he sat on the hard-packed dirt.

"Why'd you call me?" Rin asked, sitting cross-legged. "Why not Haru?"

Makoto hugged his knees and stared into the hole between them, as if it would provide an answer. "You don't know what happened?"

He didn't know much after the elementary school relay. Haru had mentioned seeing Makoto once at the swim club, years ago, and Rin had been offended that he hadn't been invited. Rin had been angry, he remembered now; no matter how much time he spent with Haru nothing could compare to his bond with Makoto. He was _glad_, even, when Makoto had gone back to Australia without calling him.

Immature brat.

Rin shook his head.

But Makoto switched topics. "I want to apologize for the other day. I was so surprised to hear that the swim club was being torn down, and I had to dig up our time capsule before it was lost forever. I . . . I couldn't lose it. It was so special to us."

_Was_. They had all thought of that time capsule when learning of the swim club's fate; they weren't as far-removed from its significance as Makoto thought.

"I've been thinking about it a lot," he continued. "I guess I should've called you guys, and we should've dug it up together. Like you said we would."

Rin offered a half-smile. "How romantic."

Makoto repositioned himself, sitting cross-legged and slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. "You understand, right? You're the only one who would. That relay . . . it meant so much to us."

Rin had no desire to talk about it. To discuss the relay was to erase the past five years, to ignore the development of his friendship with Haru in Makoto's absence. "Yeah," he said, hating how easily he agreed. "But things change, Makoto. We grew up. Sorry you weren't here to grow up with us."

Makoto whimpered like a disobedient puppy. If he had expected sympathy, he shouldn't have called _him_. Rin almost regretted being so harsh.

"Do you want the trophy?" Makoto asked. "It's at my parents' house, but—"

"No." He cut him off. "I don't give a damn about the trophy. You're right—you should've called. And the old you would have." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "I don't know what's happened to you, but I won't be a part of your pity party. Haru told me you were here that time at Christmas. Would it have killed you to talk to the rest of us? Do you know how happy Nagisa would've been to see you?"

He wanted answers. He wanted Makoto to look at him like a man, but he only stared into the darkness of the hole. Rin grabbed his chin and jerked it up, forcing Makoto to meet his eyes.

"Rin . . ." He didn't even try to fight back, which only pissed him off more. "You wouldn't understand, Rin."

"_Obviously_." Rin stood up hastily, brushing dirt from the back of his pants. "You should've contacted Haru tonight instead of me. Maybe he would've cared."

Makoto rubbed his jaw. Even in the dim moonlight, Rin could see the red marks of his fingertips. "I couldn't."

Rin wanted to lash out, to hear his own voice echo in the empty yard. He wanted to kick dirt in his face. But he only snarled and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "Whatever. If you're ever in the mood to explain yourself, I guess you can call."

Rin hoped that Makoto would protest as he marched toward the exit. But as he stepped over the caution tape he could still see him there, now standing, staring into the emptiness of the time capsule's hole. The moon had risen over the half-demolished building and now illuminated him, his white suit a shining beacon in the darkness, like it beckoned Rin to return home. But he turned away from the swim club, hopefully for the last time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Makoto_

He didn't have to be at Iwatobi to know what was going on. The rumors were flying through Samezuka—how Iwatobi had started up their own swim team, and how they had transformed that old, decrepit pool into something they could actually use. A few of the boys had strolled by to scope out their practice, reporting back that they were surprisingly _good_. Not that they were any match for Samezuka, everyone said, but they'd definitely be up against Iwatobi in the near future.

_Surprisingly good_. Makoto stood at poolside with a towel over his head, listening to Captain Mikoshiba brag about the little club that wasn't his own. Of course they were good; Makoto knew exactly how good they were. But he offered no insight—he didn't even admit to knowing them. Nitori, however, was quick to put together the pieces.

"Tachibana-senpai!" he said, rushing over. "You went to Iwatobi Elementary School, right? Did you swim with these guys?"

There was one face on that team Makoto didn't recognize, who was said to have been recruited from the track team. Pole valuter. He'd have the upper-body strength to swim butterfly, Makoto thought; he wondered if Rin would even let him.

"A couple times," he answered, the towel sliding off his head and he approached the pool.

Captain Mikoshiba was barking directions as Makoto climbed onto the starting block. The lane spread out before him, a slight ripple in the water where someone below was climbing out. His teammate slapped him good-naturedly on the back in passing.

One hundred-meter freestyle. Makoto fitted his goggles over his eyes.

"All right!" Captain Mikoshiba bellowed. His voice faded as he walked down the line, addressing all those poised on the starting blocks. "Don't forget what we talked about. Concentrate on your form and don't worry about your times. Set!" Makoto felt a brief wave of nausea as he crouched, but it passed by the time the whistle blew. But his dive was still delayed and he thrashed against the water, his lungs burning for relief as he broke the surface.

_Concentrate on your form._ Makoto's chest constricted with the constant motion of the front crawl. He forced his eyes open when turning his face into the water, but his vision was clouded. He miscalculated the turn and was too close to the wall as he flipped; his kick-off was clumsy and weak.

His back burned with shallow breaths, like his lungs were collapsing. He was forgetting to breathe. When he finally came up for air it wasn't enough—his intake was insufficient—and only the dense echo of his own name pounding through the water kept him semi-conscious.

"Makoto! _Makoto!_"

Two sets of strong hands were gripping his arms to pull him out of the water. Someone lay him on the damp floor, urging him to breathe; the scurrying of feet slapping the deck magnified around him. Someone pulled off his swim cap and goggles. Someone else threw a towel over his forehead, pushing his damp hair away from his face.

"Hey, Makoto! Look at me."

Captain Mikoshiba stood over him, one hand on Makoto's shoulder and the other holding his water bottle. Makoto stared blankly at the captain in dull recognition—like he didn't belong there at all, like his teammates were hallucinations.

He sat up, coughing, and someone pounded on his back. Mikoshiba ordered his vice-captain to take over the next set. Slowly, the smothering crowd dispersed and returned to practice, glancing over their shoulders not out of concern, but intrigue. Or pity.

"Sit out the rest of practice," Mikoshiba said in a low voice. "Take it easy. We'll talk after."

Makoto stumbled toward the back wall. He sat against the cool tile, hands hanging between his knees as he watched the next group of swimmers: Step on the block; listen to the captain's pep talk; set, dive, swim. He took deep breaths, trying to fill the empty shallowness of his lungs.

Mikoshiba kept Nitori busy with mindless duties: Someone dropped a kickboard into the pool. Dry towels were needed. Nitori deserved more than the team's errand-boy, but Makoto knew there was more to his rushing around than simply the need for dry towels—Nitori kept on looking to him, desperate to meet his eyes. Makoto stared at the floor. He'd have to thank the captain later.

"Good job, guys," Mikoshiba said, clapping his hands. "Same time tomorrow." The team surged into the locker room—Niotri included, Makoto noticed, even though he glanced back again—and the captain waited until the last swimmer disappeared before sitting beside him at the wall.

"I'm sorry, captain," he immediately said, staring at the looming body of water before them.

"What happened out there?"

_Panic. Anxiety. Failure._ "I can't swim freestyle."

Mikoshiba understood that it wasn't a lack of technique—though freestyle wasn't Makoto's specialty, his form was near perfect. But there was a desperation to the stroke. He wasn't aiming for a goal or an accomplishment: There was a _necessity _to finish, a need to escape and get out.

"You swam as a kid, right?" Mikoshiba asked.

Makoto nodded. "I . . ." He swallowed hard. "I used to swim freestyle." _With Haru_, he thought. "But I switched to backstroke for a relay, and I stuck with it. It felt more natural to me."

"Your breaststroke is pretty good, too."

It was meant to be encouraging—that maybe a member of Samezuka Academy's elite swim team could excel; that maybe his training in Australia hadn't been for naught.

"I'll work on it, captain," Makoto said as he stood. He hadn't been left with a towel; he had nothing to throw over his lowered head. He twisted the water bottle in his hands.

"Makoto. Wait." Mikoshiba hoisted himself up. "I can't make any special exceptions, but . . . I'll help you out, okay? The other guys don't have to know."

Makoto closed his eyes. Returning to Japan should have erased the memories, but he still heard the taunts of Australian children in his head: _Keep up, Tachibana! You learn anything over there in Japan? This should be easy for a big guy like you!_

"Thanks, captain." He took a long swig from the bottle, the water burning on the way down.

He excused himself to the locker room, praying that the others had already gone. It was mostly empty. Nitori was packing his bag as Makoto opened the locker beside him.

"Tachibana-senpai! Is everything okay?"

Nitori fidgeted by his locker, watching as Makoto wrapped a towel around his waist and peeled off his swimsuit. "I'm going to shower," he announced, draping the swimsuit over his locker door. "You don't have to wait for me."

"Okay," he said, slowly pulling his bag onto his shoulder. "I'll see you at practice tomorrow! Have fun with your family tonight!"

Before practice, visiting his family for dinner had been his motivation. After his near-drowning experience, he had completely forgotten. He forced down the ache in his throat as he nodded, rushing to the shower, feeling negligent for forgetting he'd see the twins that night. Some days, they were his only shining hope.

He turned on the water but didn't step beneath it, merely watching it stream into the drain. The shower mocked him after every practice. It looked too innocent—it was a life force; he would die without it. But he could also drown.

He turned it off without having showered.

It was a relief to escape the academy for the night. As he approached his parents' house he saw the shadow of two small bodies in the window, jostling each other for space. When he opened the door the twins immediately attacked, tripping over his feet to clutch his legs. Makoto swallowed hard, crouching to hug them both tight.

"Onii-chan!" Ren squealed, wiggling in his arm. "I can't breeaathe!"

Makoto followed them—and the scent of curry—to the kitchen, where his parents waited with wide smiles. They didn't question his unusual silence during the meal. Practice _had_ just started up, every day, on top of his increasing pile of schoolwork. He felt guilty for asking to be excused as soon as he plate was cleared. It was late, he was tired, and he wanted time alone.

He forced himself to shower, to purge the lingering scent of chlorine. He closed his eyes as the water spilled over his head, dripping down his face like tears. But he _always_ smelled of chlorine, according to Ran, who still waited for Makoto to teach her how to swim. He forcefully twisted the spigot to stop the flow of water, staring at the tiled wall and listening to the _drip, drip_ of the showerhead. He clenched his fists, lip quivering as he pulled a towel around his waist.

Makoto barely made it to his bedroom before the water sprung from his eyes. He sat cross-legged on the bed and cried into his hands. He couldn't remember what had happened at practice. One moment he was propelling himself forward, pushing his body to finish, and the next he was being forcibly drawn from the pool. He couldn't remember finishing the 100-meter.

Australia was supposed to help.

He cocooned himself within the blanket and opened the shades of his bedside window. The Nanase house was dark, an imposing structure looming over the Tachibana's happy home. He leaned his head against the window frame. He wanted to check his phone, to see if anyone called—or to stare at Haru's number, wishing he had the nerve to dial—but he had left his bag in the foyer, and didn't want to go back out.

It was a strange coincidence now that Makoto noticed the dark figure down the street, which turned to climb the stairs toward Haru's house. _Two_ dark figures—one with his arm around the other, head leaned in conspiratorially. The other made no move to shake him off. Their identities weren't a mystery. Even before they passed beneath a streetlight he recognized them: Rin tightening his grip around Haru, laughing, while Haru glanced at the Tachibana residence.

He drew the shades.

As he dressed to sleep, there was a mutter of tiny voices outside his bedroom. One of the twins knocked, softly calling his name like they feared he'd actually be sleeping. He pulled on his shorts before opening the door.

Ran smiled, holding up his cell phone. "It beeped," she said.

Behind her, Ren carefully balanced a tray with a pot of tea. "Mom said you needed this."

Makoto accepted the tray before Ren spilled the tea all over the hallway floor.

They scurried inside and pounced on the bed. As Ren peered out the shades, Ran was hitting every button on the phone to figure out why it had beeped in the first place. Makoto pried it from her hands, surprised to see a new message from Haru as he sat at his desk.

_Thought I saw your light on. Hi._

He bit down on his bottom lip and set down the phone.

As the twins bounced on his bed Makoto slowly poured a cup of tea, watching the smooth stream of liquid splash against the porcelain sides. Jasmine-scented steam curled from the cup, filling the tiny room with fragrance. He stared into the tea—_water_, its comforting form—and listened to the twins wrestle.

"Ran, Ren." They immediately fell silent. "Do you think I should've gone to Iwatobi?"

"No way!" Ren leaped from the bed and hugged Makoto from behind, trying to wrap his small arms around both his brother and the chair. "I like Samezuka. I wanna go there, too, and be on the swim team."

"Me too!" Ran said, as she climbed onto Makoto's lap.

"You _can't_," Ren whined. "It's just for _boys_."

Makoto smiled as Ran pouted, wrapping her arms and legs around him. "You can _both_ be swimmers," he said, smoothing Ran's hair with one hand as he picked up the teacup with the other. "But it should be because _you_ want to. It's important to have your own dreams."

"My dream is to be like you," Ren said.

He set the cup down with a shaking hand. It clattered on the tray, splashing hot droplets of water on his skin—_water_, its destructive form. "No," he said, resting his cheek on Ran's head. "You should be _you_."

"Onii-chan?" Ran tried to incline her head, but she was trapped in Makoto's grip. "Are you sad?"

He reached around the back of the chair, pulling Ren toward him to kiss them both on the tops of their heads. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But that's okay from time to time."

Ren's voice was muffled against hid side. "But you're sad _a lot_."

"Come on," he said, hoisting Ran on his hip as he stood. "Let's get you two to bed." They protested, but were already rubbing their eyes. Makoto crouched so Ren could climb into his other arm, and they fidgeted and giggled as he pretended to sink beneath their combined weight. He trudged to their rooms and dropped them into their beds, groaning and rubbing his back as he hobbled away.

Makoto slumped in his desk chair, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling. When he received a new text message, he held the phone above his inclined face to read it.

Rin: _Sorry for acting like an ass._

He chuckled. After a beat a second message arrived, as if Rin had been debating whether to send it at all:

_Let's talk. I'm at Haru's. Wanna come by?_

Makoto tilted his head back farther to stare at the top of his dresser, upside-down. It held a plethora of things he cherished too much to bring to Samezuka—a framed photograph of him with Haru, attending a festival as children; his gold medal from the elementary school relay; the unearthed trophy.

He stared at Rin's texts. He wondered if they both sat at Haru's window, now watching his shadow move across the room. He turned off the light, gripping the phone as he crawled beneath his mussed sheets.

_Not tonight,_ he texted back. _Some other time._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_Nagisa_

The day couldn't be more perfect. The sun shone bright overhead as he jumped from the train, pushing through the dense crowd of commuters. Nagisa _knew_ he should conserve his energy, but he couldn't help but run to Rei's house. He laughed, gripping his bag as he turned the corner, counting down the minutes until they were all together again at prefecturals.

_Most_ of them.

Practice felt weird without Makoto. He had always been at Nagisa's side at the Iwatobi Swim Club, encouraging him when Rin was being stubborn and Haru said nothing at all. He _liked_ having Rei on the team—even if teaching him how to swim had been hard—but he knew the others felt the same absence of their former teammate.

"Rei-chan!" Nagisa jogged up to the Ryugazaki residence and leaned on the doorbell, pressing it over and over again until he heard the exasperated grunt on the other side.

Rei flung open the door. "Once is enough!"

"Hmm?" Nagisa leaned forward, nearly nose-to-nose, to study the dark shadows beneath his eyes. "You didn't sleep," he said accusingly, poking his cheek. Rei jerked away to lock up the house. "Are you nervous, Rei-chan?" Rei _hmph_ed as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "It's okay to be nervous, you know. This is your first swim meet."

Rei strode past him, leading them toward the train station. "I'm not nervous! I've perfected my form and memorized all the theories. But all of us together"—he pumped a fist in the air—"this is exciting!"

Rei continued to ramble about theory and his perfect form, and Nagisa half-listened. He wouldn't admit to being nervous himself, because he had to stay strong for Rei. When they boarded the train, he knelt backward on the seat to watch the river rush alongside them.

"Nagisa-kun," Rei said, turning toward him, "I have a question before we arrive."

"Huh?" He sat sideways on the seat. "What is it?"

"It— It's about Makoto-san."

Nagisa slumped. The team didn't talk about Makoto a lot, since Haru dismissed the conversation whenever he came up. But even Rei sensed something was missing, an ethereal presence lurking over every conversation, every swim practice.

"What about him?"

Rei stared out toward the river. He always had that distant look when he was thinking, like he was analyzing numbers or projections. But this was a softer expression, something less calculating. "What happened? You were teammates in elementary school, correct? And he and Haruka-senpai were best friends. But he doesn't talk to you guys anymore, does he?"

Nagisa thought back to the demolished swim club, of Makoto sitting on the ground and hugging the relay trophy. "No. But I don't know what happened. Haru-chan and I were in different schools when they stopped speaking."

Rei stroked his chin. "So something _did_ happen."

Nagisa disclosed what he knew: Makoto had visited the old swim club over Christmas one year, but he hadn't gone swimming. He just sat on the deck, watching Haru.

"I think Haru-chan invited him to swim, but he didn't want to," Nagisa said.

"Huh? But wasn't he attending a swimming school?"

"Yeah . . . I don't get it either." Nagisa shrugged. "They used to write letters a lot, too, but Mako-chan stopped replying. They lost touch a few years ago. But I wonder . . ."

Rei stared intently, waiting for him to finish. "But_ what?_" he cried, flailing.

But the train had pulled into the station, and his question remained unanswered. Nagisa grabbed his bag—and Rei's arm—as he bounded off. Rei tried desperately to continue the conversation but Nagisa was already shouting for Rin and Haru, who were waiting for them by the entrance. _His team._ They hadn't yet noticed their approach—Rin had an arm draped around Haru, whispering something that made Haru grimace more than usual. But his arm dropped the moment he spotted Nagisa's frantic waving in the distance.

"Rin-chan! Haru-chan!"

Rin lifted an eyebrow, noting how quickly Nagisa dropped Rei's arm. "About time you two showed up."

"We are not late!" Rei cried, but Rin only laughed and clapped him on the back.

They watched in awe as fellow swimmers poured into the venue. Nagisa couldn't get inside fast enough—he missed the energy of a tournament, the feel of his heart bursting with pride over his team. When they huddled together to enter, Nagisa led them to the pool area before anything else. He grinned at Rei, whose eyes already shone with tears. Then he scanned the crowd below, watching the bustle of swimmers take their spots in the bleachers.

"Look!" He said, leaning over the railing. "There's Samezuka! I wonder where Mako-chan is."

Samezuka's team settled into their places, buzzing with camaraderie and excitement. Makoto should've been easy to spot. But Nagisa pouted, hurriedly searching the pool area in case he was already getting ready to swim, or maybe he was still in the locker room, or . . .

"C'mon," Rin said, grasping Nagisa's shoulder. "Let's find our seats."

Gou had already saved them a row near the front. She was bent over the day's schedule, scribbling notes in the margins and highlighting their names. Nagisa pressed against her side to read over her shoulder as Rei settled beside him.

"There I am!" he said, knocking her highlighter off-kilter as he pointed. She shoved him out of the way, but he scrambled back to read the schedule. "Haru-chan is up first."

"Gou." Rin loomed over them to stare at the schedule. "When's Makoto up?"

She lowered her head. As Rin scrutinized Samezuka's team across the pool, Nagisa grabbed the schedule from Gou's lap. Even Rei scanned the list of names, grabbing one side of the paper as Nagisa held the other. They read through it twice.

Nagisa felt his lungs deflate, like he'd been holding his breath too long. Even as Rin sat at Gou's other side, he didn't want to believe it. "He's not swimming." His grip went lax on the schedule; both Rei and Gou scrambled for it before it fluttered beneath the bleachers.

Haru hadn't joined them. He still stood at the railing, impassively staring into the crowd. Rin tugged at the hem of his jacket but Haru jerked away, gripping his bag as he jogged down to poolside for his race.

Nagisa released an exaggerated sigh, which ruffled the hair across his forehead. There was no way he could cheer on his team with the air of sadness surrounding them. "I'll be right back," he said, stumbling off the bleacher.

"Nagisa?" Rei sat up, rigid, crinkling the schedule in his fist. "You're going to miss Haruka-senpai!"

"Never! I promise I'll be back!" Rin tried to grab for him as he darted past, but Nagisa twisted away.

The hallways were nearly empty, with everyone preparing for the tournament. Nagisa ducked into the locker room, quickly searching the boys who still lingered, but Makoto wasn't among them. He _had_ to be at prefecturals; even if he wasn't swimming, it wasn't like him not to support his team.

"But why wouldn't he swim?" Nagisa mumbled, bolting from the lockers.

The next hall he'd turned onto was dark and desolate, like he wasn't supposed to be there. His chest burned with overexertion and despair; he forced himself to stop running, massaging his chest as he panted. He had to get back to the tournament. He couldn't miss Haru-chan's race; he had worked so hard to start the swim club and now—

"Nagisa?"

He heart leaped as he whipped around.

"Mako-chan!"

His legs buckled as he dove across the hallway, knocking the wind out of Makoto as he hugged him tight. Tears sprung to his eyes as he laughed, rubbing his wet cheeks against Makoto's jacket.

"Nagisa, what are you doing here? Isn't it almost time for the first heat?"

Mako-chan had changed a lot, but he recognized the concern hidden within those bright, green eyes. Makoto cared about him. And he cared about swimming, too, and his team. Nagisa nodded as he held tight to his jacket and felt a large, tentative hand pat his shoulder.

"Come on, Mako-chan," he said. "Come watch Haru-chan swim."

But his face immediately fell and he stepped backward, trying to ease out of Nagisa's grip. "I— I can't—"

Nagisa grabbed his hand, yanking hard. "Let's go; we're gonna miss it!"

"Nagisa—!"

It was difficult pulling along someone twice his size but Nagisa wouldn't let go, not for a second—not when they rounded the corner into a busier hallway, and not when they entered the pool area. Makoto relented as he was pushed toward the front to stand at the railing.

It was unnecessary to point him out: They both noticed Haru standing at poolside at the same time, tightening the straps of his goggles. Makoto's gaze wandered from his own team—the mass of black jackets in the bleachers—and back down to Haru.

"There's Iwatobi," Nagisa whispered, pointing to their small group in the front. They were all leaned forward intently, whispering to one another.

Makoto leaned against the railing, silent, and watched. Nagisa linked an arm through his, bouncing slightly on his toes. He looked back at his team: Rei was the only one not watching Haru climb onto the starting block. They locked eyes, Rei's brows lifting in interest, but Nagisa only pressed a finger to his lips as the whistle blew.

Haru's dive was flawless. Makoto's breath caught when he disappeared beneath the water; it wasn't until he broke the surface that the tension in his muscles eased, leaning against Nagisa slightly as he forced himself to breathe easy.

"He's so fast," Makoto whispered, as Haru kicked off the wall. "He's going to win."

Haru made it look effortless: There was no challenge for him; it was his body's natural movement, like the water opened its arms to him. It _welcomed _him. Makoto choked back a sob when Haru slapped the wall first, his head emerging from the water long before his competitors.

"Haru-chan won!" Nagisa said, smiling wildly at Makoto. The Iwatobi team was cheering for Haru, voices raw, crying as they hugged one another. Makoto glanced at them.

"I have to go," he said suddenly, then jogged back up the bleachers.

"Mako-chan, wait!" Nagisa bolted, trailing him to the hallway. He wouldn't get away so easily—he wasn't done. "Wait!" Makoto had already slowed down, breathing hard; Nagisa grabbed his sleeve. "I have to know . . . why aren't you swimming today?" But there was a chaos of emotion in Makoto's expression that answered for him.

_He's scared that someone noticed_, Nagisa thought, his mouth gaping. _He didn't place. He's embarrassed._

"I'm sorry, Mako-chan." Nagisa stared at the ground.

"You should go. Your heat is coming up." Makoto smiled slightly, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. "I can't watch you swim if you're not out there, right?"

A passing group of swimmers stared as Nagisa squealed, propelling himself onto Makoto so they both crashed into the wall. Makoto hit his head but he still smiled, even as Nagisa squeezed the air out of him.

"H-hey, be careful!" Makoto rubbed the back of his head as he gently pushed him away.

"I'll make you proud, Mako-chan." Nagisa danced backward down the hallway, waving frantically. "And we miss you! You should call Haru-chan!" He turned and ran before seeing his reaction, only hoping that Makoto _would_ watch him swim, like he promised. That he would watch _everyone_.

"Where have you _been_?" Gou barked, once he returned to their section. "You're up next!"

He ran back out and down to poolside.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Rei_

_This is my team._

He loved practice—he loved putting his theories into place, adjusting his body position as he swam for optimum results. He loved to study the others, calculating the degree of their dives and its impact on their results. He loved the initial shock of the water, feeling it bend and mold to him as it became a comrade, no longer an enemy.

He loved that he _loved_ it, not as a calculation, but as something worthy of his love.

But practice was over, and they hadn't yet left the pool. He watched Nagisa climb over Haru, who had been content merely floating; Haru sputtered as he resurfaced. Rin sat at the pool's edge, pointing and laughing. Nagisa floated toward him and Rin tried to pull him from the pool, though unsuccessfully—Nagisa slipped from his hand, propelling himself underwater to where Rei sat at the deck.

"Come in with me," Nagisa said, grabbing Rei's leg.

"Nagisa, stop—!"

Rei managed a gulp of air before he was yanked underwater, jacket and all. Rin's throaty laugh was the first thing he heard when breaking the surface, but Rin himself was a flesh-colored blur. Rei splashed around frantically for the blob of red that would be his glasses.

"You know, Rei," Rin said, "most swimmers _remove_ clothing to get a faster time." He leaned over to peel off Rei's soaking jacket, then tossed it up on deck. Nagisa shoved his glasses back on his face.

"_Ow."_ Rei rubbed the bridge of his nose.

This would now alter his evening plans. Rei pulled himself out of the pool, trying to dry off as quickly as possible. It had been difficult enough trying to make Nagisa understand they wouldn't walk home together that night. It would look doubly suspicious if he was rushing from the pool at a predetermined time. He stood, wringing the water out of his jacket.

"Rei-chan has a date tonight," Nagisa announced in a loud whisper.

"Ah ha!" Rin laughed. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"What?!" Rei whipped around. "I don't . . . I'm not . . . !"

"I'm just _teasing_, Rei-chan," Nagisa said, climbing out of the water. "I know you wouldn't go out with anyone but me." His reaction time wasn't fast enough to dodge Nagisa's hug—he attacked quickly, pressing his soaking-wet body against him.

"Wh— Get off me!" Nagisa giggled and jumped back into the pool. Rei sighed. "Rin-senpai, do you have something I can wear?" He held up the damp jacket.

"Yeah, sure. You can grab mine." He jerked a thumb at the bench behind him.

Thirty minutes. He still had time. Rei packed up his back and threw on Rin's jacket. It was a little big in the shoulders, but—

"Rei."

He yelped, stumbling into the bench and clonking his forehead on the chain-link fence behind it. He hastily stood up, readjusting his glasses. "Haruka-senpai!"

"Where are you going?"

Haru didn't sound angry—though it was difficult to tell sometimes—but his expression was one of curiosity, and a slight offense. Rei was often the last one to leave the pool area; most nights he'd continue to swim long after dark to perfect his form.

Rei laughed nervously as he zipped his jacket. "I, uh . . . I have some things to do before I go home. It's no big deal!"

He didn't want to flat-out _lie_, but Haru wasn't buying his half-truth. His eyes narrowed slightly, glancing down at the oversized jacket. _The jacket makes it obvious_, Rei thought, mentally berating himself. _I wouldn't need a clean jacket just to go home._

But Haru nodded, grabbing a towel from the bench. "See you tomorrow."

He escaped before the others could inquire. He knew they would be watching, so he deliberately turned the same way he did every night, pretending to go home. But when he was out of sight, he ducked behind a line of bushes and ran in the direction of Samezuka Academy.

Fifteen minutes.

Samezuka was easy to get to. He approached the front gate, panting. To the right: the gymnasium, the glass dome of the pool brightly illuminated. To the left: The dormitories. He spotted a group of students en route to the dorms, but he did not recognize any of them as swimmers. The team was surely still at practice, as he had calculated.

The original plan had been to intercept Makoto as he left the gymnasium, but Rei dismissed that as too risky. He would be surrounded by too many of his teammates; it was better to approach him closer to the dorms. He didn't know which building housed Makoto, but if he remained standing on that path he would see him eventually.

A steady stream of students began to spill from the gymnasium. _Swimmers_. It was obvious from their body types and still-damp hair. Rei adjusted his glasses, studying each individual figure in the group. They split into different directions, some heading further into campus, and some toward the dorms. Rei knew that Makoto would appear before him—it wasn't his first time scoping out the area.

He was easy to spot.

There was someone with him, which was a hitch in the plan that he had no control over—Nitori, his constant shadow. Makoto was staring at the ground as Nitori bounced around him, a concerned look on his face. Rei stepped onto the sidewalk. Nitori spotted him first, halting to a stop.

"Makoto-san?"

Makoto looked up. He looked perplexed at first, which made Rei nervous—they hadn't spoken, but the plan included at least a recognition. But his expression softened. It almost looked like he wasn't surprised or, rather, that he'd been expected.

Makoto turned to Nitori. "Why don't you head back?" he said. "I'll catch up later."

"Tachibana-senpai?" Nitori was still eying Rei skeptically. "Are you sure?"

"It's fine," he said, patting the boy's head. "Don't worry."

Nitori nodded, but still looked over his shoulder as he slowly passed. Rei waited until he was out of earshot to incline his head. "We need to talk."

Makoto nodded, motioning for him to follow.

There was a park not far from campus, one that Rei had spent several afternoons in when he had studied Samezuka. Makoto sat on a bench, setting his swim bag beside him.

"Rei-san, is it?" Makoto said, tugging at the hem of his jacket. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Rei was taken aback. He was too nice. None of his predetermined conversations would work; he hadn't counted on Makoto being warm and friendly. He couldn't barrage him with a list of questions.

"Yes . . . you too."

He would have to make things up as he went along. The plan was not going well.

"So, what brings you to Samezuka?"

Makoto's black team jacket didn't suit him, he decided. Samezuka was all sharp angles, and it didn't match his personality. Behind the solemnity, Makoto was too soft and gentle. His uniform wasn't beautiful like Iwatobi's. "I have a question for you."

"Hmm?" Makoto tilted his head slightly. "What is it?"

It was the moment of truth. Rei adjusted his glasses. "What happened between you are Haruka-senpai?"

He was silent. Rei could detect the subtle shift in his eyes—how the further he thought back, the more the gentleness in them faded. The silence was no longer warm and comfortable; it had an edge to it, an unspoken sadness that he was reluctant to share.

"It was my fault," he finally said with a sigh. "I made a mistake."

* * *

_Makoto hadn't been to the Iwatobi Swim Club since he'd left for Australia. He didn't really want to go, but it was the only place he would find Haru. Coach Sasabe greeted him warmly, ruffling his hair and nudging him toward the pool. Makoto didn't have any of his swim gear with him, but he had done that on purpose. He had only come to see Haru._

"_Haru-chan!" He rushed to the pool's edge as Haru's head poked out from beneath the water._

"_Makoto?" Haru's smile was a warm welcome from his usual stoicism. "Makoto! You're back?"_

"_Just for the holiday." He extended a hand to help him out of the pool. He loved the way his best friend looked at him: In awe and disbelief, like it was impossible that they'd be reunited at the swim club. But Makoto beamed as Haru placed both hands on his shoulders, as if testing his authenticity._

"_You didn't tell me you were coming back."_

"_Ah, yeah." He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "It was a little last-minute."_

"_Let's swim," Haru said, turning back to the pool._

"_Oh, I don't have any of my stuff. Maybe another time."_

_Haru frowned over his shoulder. "Ask Coach Sasabe. We have extras."_

"_No, I . . . it's okay. I'd rather watch you."_

_Makoto's heart pounded as Haru stared at him, perplexed. After all, Makoto had been the one to convince him to join the swim club to begin with. But Haru wordlessly turned away to slip back into the water. He breathed a sigh of relief._

_He claimed a bench by the wall and watched Haru swim laps, marveled by the way he didn't stop. He swam gracefully, back and forth, his turns smooth and his breathing controlled. Freestyle—he still only swam freestyle, and Makoto guessed he always would. He never cared about anything else._

_Haru's head popped up over the edge of the pool. "Sure you don't wanna come in?"_

_It was less a question, more a command. But Makoto couldn't. Haru had improved, even if he didn't care about that stuff. But Haru had always been by his side, motivating him to reach for his dreams—_

_Haru dipped beneath the water again before he could answer._

_He'd failed him. Haru's swimming was erratic now, more forceful. He was angry. Makoto bit down on his lower lip, willing the tears not to fall, and slipped outside._

_But he had waited. Haru followed soon thereafter; he hadn't even put his clothes on. He stood outside the swim club in his blue swimsuit and a towel around his neck. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why won't you swim with me?"_

_Makoto's heart felt heavy, and he could read the disappointment in Haru's blank expression. No one else would be able to tell, but he knew. "I . . ." He owed Haru the truth, even if it would hurt. "I don't want to," he whispered._

_It hadn't come out the right way._

"_I don't want to _swim_, Haru," he added quickly, waving his hands. "It's not you! I love to swim with you!"_

_But it was too late. Haru's face crinkled, like he would cry. "But you won't. Whatever." He ripped the towel off his neck and wrung it in his hands. "I'm going to swim."_

_Makoto wanted to follow. He watched Haru run through the front doors, envisioning him bolting back into the pool and staying there forever. Instead he sat against the wall and hugged his knees, burying his face in his arms._

* * *

Makoto was crying. Rei didn't have a tissue, but Makoto had pulled his swim towel from his bag. He covered his face with his hands, pressing the towel to his eyes as he wailed. Rei reached over the bag between them, somewhat awkwardly, to stroke his back.

"You didn't talk after that?" Rei asked quietly.

Makoto shook his head. "I tried." His voice was muffled in the towel. "I tried to visit, but he wouldn't see me . . ." He lifted his head, his face streaked with tears. "I know it sounds stupid, but I really offended him. We only swam as kids because of each other." He swallowed hard.

"Haruka-senpai is very passionate about water," Rei said, stroking his chin. But then he smirked. "Were you aware that I couldn't swim when I was recruited for the team?"

"Eh?!" Makoto wiped his face with the towel.

Rei nodded. "I don't think Haruka-senpai liked me very much. But I learned, thanks to all of them. And now . . . we're a team."

It didn't seem like so long ago. He remembered their desperate attempts to teach him and the mortifying way he wouldn't stay afloat. Rin has resented, too, that the only stroke Rei could swim was his specialty—and then Rin and Haru argued over who was better at freestyle, with no clear winner. Rin refused to participate in a medley if it meant he had to swim backstroke, but—

"Makoto-san," Rei said suddenly. "I have never seen you swim. Which stroke do you specialize in?"

The light returned to his eyes. Makoto had a beautiful smile, Rei decided. It suited him. "Backstroke. Why do you ask?"

Rei's eyes widened.

* * *

"_All right," Rin said. "I'm going to teach you backstroke. You keep your face above the surface, so it's probably best for you since you're scared of the water."_

"_I am not scared!" Rei protested._

"_The water doesn't like him," Haru deadpanned. "There's a difference."_

* * *

"I- I was just curious!" Rei flushed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

_Since you're scared of the water . . ._

"I should go back," Makoto said, rising from the bench. "Nitori is waiting for me to study."

The brief light in Makoto's eyes had extinguished. Rei wanted to protest, to force him to sit back down and talk, but Makoto slung his bag over his shoulder and shook Rei's hand. He could only watch as Makoto crossed the street, looking both ways several times before jogging toward campus.

But he had forgotten the most important part. "Makoto-san!" Rei bolted into oncoming traffic. Headlights reflected in his glasses and he yelped, scrambling across the street as the driver leaned on his horn. He tripped onto the sidewalk and into Makoto's outstretched arms.

"Rei-san, be careful!" Makoto helped him upright. "Are you all right? What is it?"

Rei panted and readjusted his glasses. He willed his heart to calm and his ears to stop ringing as he squared his shoulders. "Haruka-senpai will be at regionals for the one-hundred meter free."

Makoto's expression softened. He nodded.

Of course he knew.

He didn't say anything more, though he smiled as he bid Rei goodnight.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_Haruka_

The club didn't have much money, so it was stupid to book two hotel rooms for a race only he was in. But Rin refused to share a bed with anyone, and Nagisa claimed he would pay the club back for his and Rei's room (Haru doubted it), so he didn't have any say in the matter.

Rin swiped the key card to their room and immediately flopped onto a bed, marking his territory.

"Isn't this exciting?" Rin asked, linking his hands behind his head. "It would be better if _I _were swimming, but if anyone I'm glad it's you."

Haru unzipped his suitcase on the other bed.

"You nervous?"

Haru stared at his neatly-packed clothes. He hadn't packed much: mostly swimsuits. "No." But he abandoned his unpacking and sat on the bed's corner, staring at Rin. "Do you think he'll come?"

Haru hadn't missed Makoto witness his victory at prefecturals. They hadn't acknowledged each other; Makoto was already gone by the time Haru had rejoined his team. But the image of Nagisa clinging to him in the stands propelled him forward. He _would_ be as good as Makoto, and he would prove it.

"He should, yeah." Rin sat up. "It wouldn't be like him not to support his team."

But Makoto hadn't even placed for prefecturals. Haru frowned.

There was a knock on the door and Rin groaned, rising to answer when Haru didn't make a motion to. Haru expected a continuous staccato and Nagisa's insistent pestering from the other side, but it didn't come.

Rin scanned the empty hallway, half-in, half-out of their room. "No one's here. Hmm?" He crouched to retrieve a plain, white envelope, twirling it in his fingers as he closed the door. "Something for you. Who's sending you love letters?"

Haru grumbled. "What are you talking about?"

Rin waved the envelope in front of his face, teasing him, until Haru snatched it from his hand. He glared as Rin pounced on the bed behind him, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"Do you mind?" Haru held the envelope face-down on his lap. Because he recognized that childish scrawl the instant Rin waved it in his face—it had been years since he'd seen his name in that handwriting, but it was unmistakable.

Rin slumped, defeated, and flopped onto Haru's bed as he ripped open the envelope.

* * *

_Haru,_

_I don't know how to start this. It's been a really long time since I've written you a letter! I should apologize for that, too, but there are a lot of bigger things I want to say first._

* * *

"What is it?" Rin said, studying the discarded envelope. Haru ignored him.

* * *

_If you're reading this, it means we're both at the hotel for regionals. I won't be swimming, but I'll be there for my team. And for you. Because I'm so proud of you, Haru. I'm so glad that I watched you swim at prefecturals. Your love for swimming shines through you—you haven't changed at all. I wanted to be like that, too, but it's not something that you can learn, even at a fancy school._

_I should have explained things years ago. Do you remember when that kind, old fisherman died? I'm sure you do. That changed me a lot. But I still wanted to swim, even though I was afraid of the water. Because it meant I could be with you, and I wanted to do what you loved. And I loved swimming—so much that I had to leave Japan, and you, to get better._

* * *

Haru swiped a thumb over a tiny wrinkle on the page. _Water_. Tears.

* * *

_But it didn't happen that way. I should have told you when I came home for the holiday, at the swim club. We have good memories there, don't we? But I ruined that. I couldn't tell you how scared I still was. I want to explain what happened, but I can't even write it down. And that's the only thing I wanted to say in this letter! But writing it down still scares me. I'm not afraid to admit that to you. I'll have to tell you in person, if you still want to talk to me._

_I'll be at regionals tomorrow watching from the front row. I wouldn't miss this for the world, Haru. You're the best friend I've ever had, and I hope you still will be._

_Love,_

_Makoto_

* * *

He read the letter again. The signature at the bottom became a blur, a word read so many times that it no longer registered as a word. Rin plucked the letter from his lax grip, and Haru let him. He stared at Rin's face as he read, studying the way his eyes moved in sequence with its words. His brows furrowed, and then relaxed. Haru moved to the window. Down below, hoards of swimmers were gathered, talking or searching for their friends or heading out into the night. He searched for the one person who likely wasn't out there with the rest.

Rin materialized beside him, resting an elbow on his shoulder. He pressed the folded letter into Haru's hands. "Don't go looking for him now."

_I don't know how to start this . . ._

"You'll just get worked up before the race."

Haru rubbed the thick paper, running his fingers over the crease again and again. "I'm the reason he swims."

Rin snorted. "I could've told you that."

He unfolded the letter again. _We're both at the hotel for regionals._

"C'mon," Rin said, squeezing his shoulder. "Rei and Nagisa will be here soon. You've gotta carb up. And you _know_ Nagisa won't take any excuse for skipping a meal."

Haru couldn't sleep that night. He stared at Rin curled in his bed across the room, oddly comforted by his light snoring. He felt so far away; he wouldn't have minded Rin's affectionate half-hug or a hand brushing his forearm now. Haru rubbed his shoulder.

He slid out of bed, tiptoeing around the room as to not wake his roommate. He stared at Rin while he zipped his jacket, waiting for him to wake up and stop him, but he only rolled over and hugged his pillow. Haru considered leaving a note. He felt for the keycard in his pants pocket and silently slipped out of the room instead.

He had no idea where Samezuka was staying. It was a little after one o'clock, and he hoped someone from their team would be wandering the hotel. He wondered if he should've worn something besides his Iwatobi jacket—was it too much?—but he only pushed his hands into his pockets as he turned into the empty hall.

"Haru-chan!" Nagisa's quick footsteps followed his harsh whisper. "You're going the wrong way."

"What?"

Nagisa jogged up behind him, Rei close at his heels. They both looked flushed, like they'd been out in the cold. Nagisa clasped his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth, as he shared a secret smile with Rei.

Haru pulled his jacket tighter around him. "What are you guys doing up, anyway?"

"We couldn't sleep," Rei said. But"—he sidestepped around Haru, spinning his body around—"I believe you mean to go this way."

Nagisa giggled, grabbing Rei's hand before tiptoeing down the hallway. "Goodnight, Haru-chan," he said.

From across their room Haru's own door opened; Rin rubbed the back of his neck, yawning, as he emerged. Rei and Nagisa froze in their doorway. "What the hell are you guys doing?" he said, but cast a sleepy gaze at Haru, who only stood dumbfounded in the middle of the hall. "Ah."

"Rin . . ."

But Rin waved a hand dismissively. Nagisa looked like he would burst; his jaw was set and he wouldn't stop fidgeting in place. Even Rei calmly smiled as he tolerated the small hands twisting around his forearm.

Haru's heart pounded as Rin approached, waiting to be pulled back into the room, but Rin hugged him around the waist instead. Nagisa squealed as Haru patted Rin's shoulder, awkwardly, and a light kiss fluttered against Haru's cheek.

"Go," Rin said, stepping aside. He looked to Rei and Nagisa, who both jerked their heads toward the hotel lobby. "Don't stay out too late, eh?"

Haru didn't have a chance to respond as Rin pushed him toward the lobby. He glanced back at his team as they stood, watching—Nagisa clutching onto Rei as if for dear life, and Rin smirking and as crossed his arms across his chest. Haru nodded determinedly before rushing for the lobby.

He had expected it to be deserted, but there were a surprising number of people around. Most were swimmers, some wearing their team jackets but a lot were in casual clothes or sleepwear.

"Excuse me." Haru turned, surprised, coming face-to-face with a grey-haired boy staring at him pleadingly.

_What does this kid want?_ Haru thought, annoyed. "What?"

"A-are you Nanase-san? From Iwatobi?"

"Yes . . ."

The boy's face lit up, the smile on his face wide. "Ah! I-It's a pleasure to meet you!" He hurriedly bowed, as if an afterthought; Haru stepped back to avoid getting knocked in the chest. "I'm Nitori!"

It dawned on him. He wasn't wearing his team jacket, so he hadn't recognized him at first, but this was definitely a Samezuka boy. Haru felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "Uh . . . nice to meet you."

"Makoto-senpai is outside," he said, glancing at the sliding glass doors. "In case, um, you were looking for him."

Haru's gaze shifted to the door, which was confirmation enough for Nitori. He nudged him gently—hesitantly, like he wasn't sure whether he'd appreciate the personal contact—and waited. _He's really going to stand there_, Haru thought, glancing at him skeptically, before heading toward the door. Nitori scampered away as the glass doors slid open.

The lights of the city were nearly blinding. He squinted up at the buildings, marveling at how many windows were still illumined at that hour. A sliver of sky revealed the moon over an alley, clouds rolling over it like water.

"H-Haru?"

Makoto's shadow preceded him. It stretched out before Haru, cast by the vivid light of their hotel. He turned. Makoto was partially hidden in shadow, wearing only his black swim team jacket over a pair of pajama shorts. The jacket wasn't zipped all the way and revealed a hint of pale, smooth skin.

"Makoto."

Makoto shifted his gaze from the ground to Haru and back, putting his hands into his pockets and then taking them out again.

"I got your letter," he said, deadpan.

His face paled. "Haru, let me explain, I—"

"You're still scared of the water, aren't you?"

He avoided Haru's eyes, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. "Do you want to know why?"

He nodded.

* * *

"_Tachibana, let's go! You're up!"_

_This was it. Makoto climbed onto the starting block and pressed his goggles to his eyes. He glanced at Coach. Of course he wouldn't give him any special attention, but Makoto knew he was rooting for him. They had spent hours training after practices, and now was the time to prove himself._

_The whistle blew. Makoto dove perfectly; he thought it looked exactly like Haru's. He'd gotten stronger since training in Australia, and he felt it everywhere—his arms punched the water as he swam; his shoulders flexed and strained harder than ever. He turned. His kickoff was a little slow, but that was okay. He could make up the time._

_The bottom of the pool whizzed past him and he stared at it in wonder, its lines a blur in his vision. He pushed with all his might, but _it_—the unknown—started to pull him under. He slowed. He gasped and faltered; his heart rate accelerated. The end couldn't be too far, but he couldn't see it._

_If only—_

_He coughed. His chest burned, pounding like someone had been applying constant pressure. He didn't want to open his eyes. Makoto curled onto his side, coughing up water as someone rubbed his back. He was wet and cold and still wearing his swimsuit._

"_Tachibana! Can you hear me?"_

_Coach's face was blurry. Makoto coughed again as he sat up, a hand steadying his back. He blinked; the pool area was empty._

"_Where is everyone?" he asked, panicked._

"_Practice is over," Coach said with a hint of sadness. "Crickey, you've been out a solid ten minutes. If I didn't hear your little heart beating in there, I'd've called an ambulance." He tapped Makoto's bare chest._

_Crying hurt with burning lungs. Coach draped a towel over his shoulders and rubbed his back, waiting for the spell to pass. "You'll get through this, little bloke. That's why you're here, ain't it? I'll work it out with you."_

* * *

Haru kicked around a piece of loose gravel. "Is that when you stopped writing?"

Makoto shook his head. "That came after. But it kept on happening. I— I didn't want to swim with you, because I didn't want it to happen again. I thought seeing you would make me feel better, but you were so _good_, Haru. You improved so much, and I . . . hadn't."

Makoto slunk back, rubbing his eye like he had an itch. But Haru saw it—in the glow of the hotel's light, his face shone. Water trickled down his cheeks and his shoulders jerked, trying to hold it in. Haru wiped a tear from Makoto's chin.

"I _had_ to go to Australia," he wheezed, swiping a sleeve across his eyes. "I knew that it meant we wouldn't see each other for a while, but it would be worth it. If I could get over my fear . . . then we could swim together again." His voice cracked with heavy sobs, and if Haru didn't know him—if he didn't understand the inner workings of his heart—he wouldn't have understood him at all. "I want to swim with you."

The road fell silent. One by one, lights in the surrounding buildings extinguished. A single car rumbled past, a trail of exhaust in its wake. And Haru tugged at Makoto's sleeve, wanting to stare into the blubbering mess that was his face. He hadn't seen those eyes in years—truly seen them. There was hope within their depths again, a softness intensified by the rivers streaming down his face. Haru pulled down the sleeves of his own jacket, covering his hands to wipe Makoto's cheeks. But it was futile—the tears continued to pour and he jerked away, weeping into his hands.

"I want you there for me tomorrow," Haru said, trembling as he gripped Makoto's forearm. "I want you to sit with Iwatobi."

Makoto's eyes peeked out from between his fingers.

"I want you with your team."

Haru was thrown backward as Makoto hugged him, crushing him in a vice grip. Haru gasped for breath, the air squeezed from his lungs as his best friend blubbered against his shoulder. But he smiled.

"You need to get some rest," Makoto whispered. "It's really late."

But then water dripped onto Makoto's shoulder, dark shadows dotting the black jacket. Haru felt a rumble from deep within Makoto's chest, a gentle laugh fighting to break free. "It doesn't matter," Haru said, pressing his damp face to Makoto's shoulder. "It doesn't matter."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Remember when I said this fic was finished? Apparently I lied :D I just couldn't get this last scene out of my head._

* * *

Chapter Seven

_Makoto_

He heard the shuffle and bustle of his roommate in the semiconsciousness of morning,. It sounded like water. He'd dreamed of the ocean, its steady rhythm of tides, of Haru on the shore, reaching out for him, mouthing words he couldn't hear as the waves crashed over him again, and again . . .

"Ah, Makoto-senpai! You're awake!"

Makoto blinked at the ceiling, unseeing, his sheets drenched in sweat. He was exhausted after only four hours of sleep. He considered, maybe, that the previous night hadn't occurred, that he hadn't spent an hour sniveling with Haru outside the hotel. _Haru had cried_, he thought in disbelief. But . . .

"Did Nanase-san find you?" Nitori pounced onto the bed. He swung his feet, rocking the mattress, forcing Makoto to sit up lest he roll over and crush his roommate.

"Y-yeah," he answered, rubbing his sweat-slicked forehead.

"I hoped so. I saw him in the lobby, and I tried to stay up to talk to you when you got back, but I was too tired. I had to rest up for today's race!"

_The race_. What had he promised the night before? Nitori was beaming at him expectedly. He wanted details. He wanted to know what Makoto had talked about with Haru. But the memory was hazy in his sleep-deprived brain, save for one major detail—the one that mattered most, he now realized.

"Nitori, I won't be sitting with the team today." Nitori's face fell but he immediately brightened when Makoto added, "I'll be watching you with Iwatobi." He was greeted with a stifling hug, Nitori knocking the wind out of him as he fell back against the headboard. "Go get ready for your race," he said, smiling, as he gently pushed him away.

Makoto took a long shower, trying to piece together the events of the previous evening. Most of the team had gone out and he joined them for a while, until some of the boys had gotten particularly rowdy. Nitori was uncomfortable and, perhaps by association, Makoto wasn't interested in roaming the streets anymore, either. He had unexpectedly confided in Nitori about his fears concerning Haru as they walked back from the all-ages club.

"You head back to the room," Makoto had said, once they'd reached the hotel. "I'll be there soon."

But of course Nitori _hadn't_ returned, as he now understood. Perhaps he had run all over the hotel searching for Haru. Or perhaps he had waited in the lobby, praying that he would show up. Either way, Makoto had been surprised to see Haru outside the hotel—and not surprised at the same time, as if they were destined to meet that night, at that location.

Now, as the hours and minutes ticked past, Makoto was increasingly aware of how rapidly his heart was beating. He had urged Nitori to join the team for their pre-race prayers and Makoto, who wouldn't be swimming, stayed behind. He stared out their hotel window, willing his heartbeat to steady, before finally heading out.

It felt weird to be a spectator, not having his own race to prepare for. The pool area was packed. Coaches spoke to the officials while swimmers gathered in various stages of undress. Samezuka had claimed a section of the bleachers, their banner proudly hanging to proclaimed their marked territory. And then, he spotted them—he thought it would take forever to find Iwatobi's small team, but he was instantly drawn to their blue-and-white tracksuits. Makoto rubbed the shark-tooth pattern on the arm of his jacket. He wished he hadn't worn it, but he wouldn't take it off. He was still a Samezuka boy, and he still felt pride for his team. It took effort to stand up straight as he walked, afraid that everyone judged him for sitting with the opposition.

Unsurprisingly, Nagisa spotted him first.

"Mako-chan!" Nagisa raced toward him with arms outstretched, greeting Makoto with a vice-grip hug. "You came! Are you going to sit with us? _Please?_"

He couldn't be sure how much Haru had shared with them—if anything—but Makoto simply answered, "Yes."

Rin gave him a high-five. Gou hugged his arm, but Rin yanked her away once it became obvious she was feeling his biceps. Nagisa pushed Rei toward him, introducing them like they hadn't met, and they shared a secret smile as Rei enthusiastically shook his hand.

"Haru-chan's getting ready," Nagisa said, pointing toward the pool deck. "Look."

Makoto was grateful to sit, for nerves had turned his legs to jelly. Rin lightly massaged the nape of Makoto's neck as they watched. Haru seemed to be ignoring the official as he stretched, lazily pulling one leg behind his back. But Makoto knew he listened; Haru was always listening, even if he didn't response. It comforted him to know that some things hadn't changed.

Nagisa wedged between Makoto and Rei, linking his arms with theirs. The affection from all sides was almost overwhelming, but Makoto merely stared at the swimmers waiting at the starting blocks.

"Hey, look at that," Rin said, pointing at the lineup. "Your captain's up, too."

Makoto's stomach dropped as Mikoshiba jumped onto the block beside Haru.

"Who are you rooting for, Makoto-san?" Rei asked.

"Don't make him choose!" Gou cried, swatting his arm with the schedule.

Makoto watched as Haru pressed his goggles to his eyes. "Both of them," he said quietly. Rin smirked and squeezed his shoulder.

Then Haru looked up. Despite the hundreds of bodies squeezed into the stands, Makoto knew he looked straight at him. And despite the distance, he could see his eyes widen behind the goggles. Rin draped an arm across his shoulders as Nagisa squeezed tighter. They had noticed, too. Rei peered over Nagisa's head but Makoto wouldn't avert his gaze; Haru smiled as he set, and may have still smiled when the whistle blew and he dived.

Haru slid through the water, already ahead of the other competitors. But Mikoshiba was catching up, and Haru knew it—suddenly there was a determination in his stroke that hadn't been there before, a _desire_ to compete and come out first. Makoto leaped from his seat and leaned over the railing when they turned at the same time. Rin was swiftly at his side; the rest of the team followed. Gou began to cheer and the team's voices echoed around him, but Makoto was too enthralled to join as Haru pulled out in front of Mikoshiba. He felt like his heart would burst.

"_Haru!"_ he cried. Rin whooped and leaned over the railing; Makoto grabbed a fistful of his jacket in fear he'd tumble over. There was a burst for the finish, and several swimmers hit the wall at once.

"Who won?!" Rei cried.

But Makoto had seen it—Mikoshiba had pulled ahead at the last moment, extending his arm just enough to touch the wall first. A roar of approval rose from Samezuka's section, and they shook their banner wildly.

"He . . . lost?" Rin slumped.

"Haru-chan . . ." Nagisa pouted as he fell into Rei.

But Makoto silently observed the way Haru pulled himself out of the pool, tearing off his swim cap to shake out his hair. The official was trying to usher him away from the deck but Haru turned toward the bleachers instead, staring directly at Makoto's concerned face. And he _smiled_. Makoto glanced at the pouting swim team around him.

"I'll be right back," he said cheerfully, and didn't give them a moment to protest before he bolted out.

The hallways were packed. He shouldered his way through the crowd, spouting apologies and _excuse me_s as he sought that familiar head of black hair, a memory he never thought he'd be privileged to revive, a lifelong friendship he thought he'd severed—

"Makoto!"

He cried out when Haru called down the hallway, waving, and Makoto lurched into a sprint. He slammed into Haru and sobbed against his shoulder—tears of relief, of happiness, of apology. "You were so good," he blubbered, gripping hard to Haru's arms. "I'm so happy . . ."

"But I didn't win."

Makoto backed away, firmly holding his arms as tears rolled down his cheeks.

A voice spoke up behind him. "But you see, it doesn't matter." Rei adjusted his glasses as he came up alongside them. "What matters isn't the final score, but who was there to support you."

"Rei-chan is right!" Nagisa vaulted onto Makoto's back, wrapping his legs around his waist. He stumbled with the added weight, chuckling as he grabbed onto Nagisa one-handed to keep him from toppling. "We got to watch you with Mako-chan!"

Haru's eyes shone as Rin came up last, pulling them into a tight-knit huddle.

"Rin," Haru said as they bumped heads, "are you crying?"

"No!" He wiped his face on Haru's shoulder, and Nagisa's mirth was shrill in Makoto's ear.

"I—" Makoto sniffled as he leaned into the huddle, pressing his forehead to Haru's and feeling his teammates around him—Nagisa, with his hyperactive optimism; Rin, with his tough love; Rei, with his will to confront the unknown.

And Haru.

Haru, his rock, his constant, who stood before him now despite the fear and despair, holding tight to his shoulders, assuring him without words that he would always be there, always support him, always cheer him on.

"I've missed you so much," Makoto said, weeping, as Rin pulled the circle tighter.

Haru, his best friend.


End file.
